


Spilt Coffee and Balloon Animals.

by halelujah



Series: Tumblr Prompts/Fics [6]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Fluff, Future Fic, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-04
Updated: 2016-01-04
Packaged: 2018-05-11 18:43:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 896
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5637838
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/halelujah/pseuds/halelujah
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“I am so sorry, oh my God!” Comes a voice from the floor, packets of balloons strewn everywhere. “I can pay for your dry cleaning! Well. I’ll <i>try</i> to, I swear!”</p>
<p>Scowling, he looks up and isn’t prepared for wide whiskey coloured eyes and a mouth shaped like sin, or beauty marks mapped across pale skin that Boyd wanted to connect with his tongue and lips.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Spilt Coffee and Balloon Animals.

**Author's Note:**

  * For [queerly_yours](https://archiveofourown.org/users/queerly_yours/gifts), [InsaneJuliann](https://archiveofourown.org/users/InsaneJuliann/gifts).



> For my two fave baes. Ily.

As soon as Boyd steps outside the building, he knows that he isn't going to spend his lunch hour cooped up in office again. The atmosphere outside Hale's Law Firm is so much brighter than it was yesterday, maybe because it's finally stopped raining, maybe because he's just closed a case that's been slowly draining the life out of him. 

Either way, there's a bit of a swing to his step as he walks down to the cafe near his work, orders a coffee and two ham and cheese sandwiches to go, before making the short trek to the park, one block down. 

He finds a vacant seat near the entrance and settles down, watching in amusement as the kids in the park, run around playing an imaginary game where the ground is lava. Dogs are chasing after frisbees with panting tongues and wagging tails to his left and old men play chess and compare stories of their wives forcing them to eat more healthily to his right. 

It’s a breathe of fresh air, like he’s looking through his eyes with new ones, easily picking up on the joys of living, of life. 

And then he's promptly shoved into the real world when a blur of long limbs crash into him, spilling his just right coffee over the sleeve of his very expensive jacket.

“I am so sorry, oh my God!” Comes a voice from the floor, packets of balloons strewn everywhere. “I can pay for your dry cleaning! Well. I’ll _try_ to, I swear!”

Boyd is too busy dabbing at his wet arm to really understand the babble that follows, something about paying for someone named Roscoe, student loans and “Dude, you don’t understand, if I have to eat another batch of ramen noodles, I might throw myself into oncoming traffic.”

Scowling, he looks up and isn’t prepared for wide whiskey coloured eyes and a mouth shaped like sin, or beauty marks mapped across pale skin that Boyd wanted to connect with his tongue and lips. 

“What’s with the balloons?” He rasps out, wet sleeve all forgotten. 

“What?” Bambi Eyes asks, said eyes lighting up when he motions at their feet. He bends over to pick them up and shove them back into his messenger back. “Oh! I come here every Friday at noon to hand them out to the kids. Giving back to the community and all that.”

Before Boyd can open his mouth to respond, a little girl pops up by their knees, pudgy fingers tugging at the hem of Bambi Eyes’ plaid shirt. 

“Mister Stiles, Mister Stiles!” She says, grinning and showing off her front teeth are missing. “You’re late!”

Boyd has a moment to think what on earth that is, before he watches the man evidently named Stiles bend down and hoist the girl up into his hip.

“ _I am_?” He asks, tugging playfully at a pigtail and making her giggle. “Well, that’s just not right, is it?” He heaves out a sigh, mouth twisting in a way that tells Boyd that he’s trying not to smile. “I guess that means I have to stay another half an hour then to make up for it. How’s that sound?”

She cheers, arms flying up in the arm and nearly smacking Stiles in the nose. Boyd can’t help but smile himself. 

“Now, Carlee, why don’t we say goodbye to–” he glances over and looks at him.

“Boyd,” he answers, feeling hot under the collar when he’s pinned to the spot by those eyes. He’d blame the sun bearing down on them, but he knows when he’s captivated by someone and right now, he’s definitely been swept off his feet. 

“– Mr Boyd and I’ll let you give off the signal.”

Carlee nods quickly, her inky pigtails sashaying around her chin as she vibrates excitedly in Stiles’ arms. 

“Alrighty then,” Stiles says, putting her down before digging in his pocket and pulling out a whistle. 

She squeals, grabs it and takes off, a “Bye, Mr Boyd!” just hitting his ears before a loud blow from the whistle echoes through the park.

Children begin to scream around them before they all dash off after Carlee. 

“I’ve gotta go,” Stiles tells him, hooking a thumb over his shoulder, “But if you hang around, we can arrange the payment for your jacket.”

Body’s nodding before he realises, but thinks Derek owes him some hours, so spending one more wouldn’t hurt anyone.   
“Okay.”

Turns out it wasn’t just ordinary balloons that Stiles handed out to the kids. Candy was another but it was _balloon animals_ that were the main attraction. Anything that the children - and even some parents - yelled out, Stiles made. From flowers to animals, to even a car or bicycle. It amazed Boyd and maybe had him fall a little in love with the man when he’d get a volunteer to come help him.

“I really am sorry.” Stiles tells him afterwards, ducking his head and glancing up at him from under his eyelashes. “I was running late and didn’t even see you. Thought I could save time by jumping over the seat.”

Boyd swallows before shrugging an indifferent shoulder. “Grab a coffee with me now and we’ll call it even.”

Stiles’ grin is one of the reasons why he goes back to the park the next week. His kisses are the reason why he never stops.


End file.
